Frozen: Scorched Earth and Shattered Ice
by AVG 2-Lee-Aw
Summary: Cold, dark and cruel - Amidst the blissful days after the eternal winter in Arendelle, an upcoming struggle attempts its descent to ruin peace and order. As Elsa sets overseas to aid an ally land, Anna is stuck with the duties the queen has left behind, duties that will make her realize that it takes more than courage to face, politics, responsibilities and waking up early.
1. Near the Edge

**PUBLIC APOLOGY**

Before anything else, to those who have been expecting further updates regarding my first novel, By Ice Be Shattered, I would like to ask for your deepest considerations for failing to post the succeeding parts. It is due to some personal pursuits that I urgently need to consider, in addition to my very hectic collegiate schedule. Also, as I browse the rest of its content, it's very disappointing to note that I have posted a product of rushed creativity for any valid reasons of my own, making it a total breakdown on my perspective.

In the mean time, I will no longer be posting new chapters of "By Ice Be Shattered" until such time I figured out what to do with it. From this day and beyond, my attention would be now focusing on a new work of fiction and hopefully I will be able to place my fullest concentration in building and improving my work so please do not hesitate to leave your reviews. It greatly helps build up my progression not only as a writer, but also as a student.

Thanks a lot and I do wish you'd be able to bear with my current condition. Have a blessed day ahead everyone.

 **FOREWORDS**

This is a complete remake of "By Ice Be Shattered"; not a different story and most likely, not a sequel.

There will be apparent modifications regarding the names of the OC's and the story line. However, neither of the plot, the conclusion nor your prospects (if you were on track since the first tale) will be adjusted, meaning that the author would strictly stick to the supposed scheme of "By Ice Be Shattered". I do not require the viewers to read my previous work before proceeding to this story, but for some who were curious about the fact of posting a total remake, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. Feel free to examine its contents since I do not have the control over the reader's minds.

And now, without further ado, I proudly present **Frozen: Scorched Earth and Shattered Ice**.

 **DISCLAIMER**

Only Disney is the rightful owner of Frozen…

* * *

 _The illusion we see is just the veil what should actually be seen…_

* * *

The Norwegian heavens glowed orange, tinting a bit of blood red in the twilight hue, as the great sphere made its majestic decent toward the western horizon, submerging the entire lands under its remarkable golden rays. A small visible patch of spreading darkness emerged far from beyond the eastern coasts of kingdom, more like a black fog that devoured everything it touched as it stretched along the blank floating spaces. The first of the glittering crystals appeared on the clear skies, adding faint illuminations on the gloomy sheets that hover upon the soon to be sleeping kingdom of Solberg.

Nightfall didn't always signify the turning point of every positive, at other instances, miserable chapters on life of the common townsfolk. But then, witnessing the peaceful shades drifting across the evergreen mountain ranges made it possible for most of the citizens to finally put leisure to the exhaustion they are currently having. As far as they're concerned, bed rest might be the best option after all.

For practical reasons or whatsoever, Solberg has long been considered as a precarious orb resting along the coastal boarders of Norway. The dim moonlight made it glimmer alongside the scattered brightness of a thousand sparkling diamonds that hung freely over the night sky, reflected by the crystal clear waters of the fjord. Together with the cool Scandinavian wind howling from the northern seas, the Solbergian lands seemed to have revealed its picture of utmost simplicity and tranquility from a distance.

* * *

Several structures burned, collapsed upon the brick stone walkways like useless paper, thrashed and crumpled on a study desk, unworthy of being reused. Other edifices, if not fallen, were inscribed with soot and burn marks along its walls as if a storm of whirling flames had struck the place, leaving only few traces of sturdy built foundations sitting uncharcoaled in place. Most of the residents fled, casted themselves upon the distant highlands far from the premises of the town square, hoping to find a better place to dwell on, far from chaos and, above all, insanity.

A pair of guards approached the spot beholding much of the crumbled structures; they were on patrol for suspicious personnel roaming within the shades beyond appointed curfew hours. The first sight of ruins gaped them in awe as if they were pretty oblivious to turbulence that took place.

Well, actually, they were.

"Whoa! Look at this mess Bob," the younger one exclaimed; a look of mixed confusion and amazement crept up his face. "What d'ya think caused this disaster?"

"I don't know," the other replied, not showing the merest interest on the issue albeit he had little details of what took place earlier. It's just a matter of multiple explanations when a proper response was given to the newly recruited member of the security council. He chose to remain silent.

"How many you casualties ya think?"

"I don't know."

The lad's still young, possibly seventeen to nineteen years of age. He was smart, eager to learn by throwing a million questions at a single given topic, yet, he still possesses the ideal description of innocence-a trait that Bob hoped to remain.

"D'ya think that this would be the last of it?

"I don't know."

"Ooo...k. Whattaya say 'bout this, how 'bout ought ourselves outta this crazed lunacy and look for some other good place to stay? Huh? Huh? You better say somethin' 'bout this cause I'm runnin' out of words for corn's sake!"

"I don't know," Bob replied, shrugging his broad shoulders.

"Oh, for crying out loud! Come on Bob. Stay with me!" the youngster said as he grew practically impatient toward the older man's response. "Can't you say anything besides 'I dunno'?"

Bob twisted his head, stared at the young guard with narrowing eyes and wrinkling forehead. He turned back and took a deep sigh before uttering one last statement to his comrade...

"I don't know."

* * *

There was no light left to ease the blackness that enveloped the hallways, save for the soft lunar glow penetrating through a few uncleaned glass panes, scattering along the polished floors to create a mild gleaming effect on the dark corridor.

A man with fair gray hair lowered himself upon the remaining turns of the dark hall, taking heavy footsteps that were quite audible in shades. His forehead was relieved from dryness, plastering some the ash-colored locks that barely kissed his thin brows. Though he had pulled his naval coat off, the black undershirt he wore succeeded in generating a perturb sensation to go with the depleted state he is having. It felt like glue, sticking on every spot of his muscular torso. But he ignored it- completely subsiding the entire thought to comply with the agenda he is tasked to accomplish.

The near ends of the hallway was pitch black, reasoned by the failure of the moonlight to extend up to the last few edges, constraining the formation of any clear and subtle visuals of the path ahead.

He halted his pace, opted to forge a mental image instead of using the designated torch sticks poking on the cold walls. He continued walking.

In front of his eyes, a grand doorway lay undisturbed at the end of the corridor. A soft glowing sigil of fire painted in blue, red and orange was contained on the center of the double wooden panels that made the barrier between him and the presence inside. The man pulled a short piece of lean cloth from the pocket of his trousers and wiped the wetness off his exhausted pale face, sending small puffs of his breath to leave his lips as he took a deep sigh with every stroke of the cloth along his forehead. Finally, he stood up unmoving on his position, ready to address the important person residing within the chamber. Again, he took a deep sigh before letting his numb knuckles meet the wooden barrier.

The room was also dark, faintly illuminated by a small chandelier swaying from the ceiling above. The windows were widely opened, allowing much of the cold night air to pierce through every corner, yet it didn't cause the temperature to drop even a few degrees; it was still hot inside, precisely hotter than the hallway. On the balcony, few feet from the entrance, a black feminine silhouette stood, facing the crystal clear waters that glitter under the dull moonlight. Her pale red locks were neatly compressed in a single braid that hung loosely on her left shoulder. The train of her yellow sparkling outfit danced alongside the slow breathing of nature, like a flame.

"My Queen," he curtsied. "You summoned me. Is there something wrong?"

She remained on her position, eyes fixed on the unfrozen fjord and feet firmly planted on the marble flooring. Though she heard the familiar voice, silence was her response.

"Your Majesty..."

"Updates Marqus! I need updates!" her voice echoed throughout the room like thunder. It brought a clear feedback to Marqus, causing him to reach for a piece of paper from his pocket.

"Absolutely My Queen," Marqus said while unfolding the parchment. "May I ask which one?"

She faced the gray haired man with eyes shining in blood red hue. Her hair was aflame, glowing a hundred times brighter than the chandelier could emit. Temperature began to rise.

"What do you mean 'which one'," her face seemed blank. "I have assigned you several tasks since daylight and you are obliged to present me ample updates regarding the progress of each by the time night falls. I wanted every detail of your report muttered out loud in front of me every time I called for your presence. Am I making sense out of me Admiral?"

"Yes. Yes Your Majesty. I apolo..."

"I don't need your apologies! I want your report," she demanded.

"Yes My Queen," Marq uttered between sets of clattering teeth and shaking limbs. More perspiration came rushing down his entire features.

"First of all, we have the figures from the rebellion this late afternoon," Marq began as he tried to look dignified in front of the Queen. "At most three of them were counted as casualties. Six were injured in which two are of in serious concerns. They're now in the infirmary, being prepped for the interrogation I assigned this morning if they ever awake. Though they have the chance of survival, it's their decision to either cooperate with us or breathe their last," he paused. "The remaining four will be sent in the dungeons along with four others and will be considered as hostiles. In the mean time, we will be waiting for your word to execute them..."

"No," the Queen butted in the midst of her attentive listening. "Let them be. They might be useful on some other parts of the plan. Continue."

"It is noted. Continuing, half of the market place was totally damaged..."

"Hold it right there Admiral Marqus. You do not need to fully emphasize that portion since I am the one responsible for its downfall. Now, if it is of any concern in you, I, myself, will do the assessment on that area and decide whether to re-establish the lost half or construct a secondary stronghold. But I am still making thoughts on the first one since there are still people here."

"You might need my men for assistance then."

"No need for a battalion to come. Just present me two of your big men and I will be starting by daybreak. By the way, I've noticed that the small group you sent was out gone for almost two weeks. Any news about them so far?"

Marq stood frozen, half expecting the topic to come up so soon. His heart came pounding a thousand beats a minute. His breath tightened as if being chocked by an unseen force. He couldn't feel his trembling legs.

"Well?"

The admiral gathered all his remaining composure as he searched his abyss of thoughts for the correct word to mumble. In its broadest sense, there was absolutely no appropriate excuse to let go. However, he had managed to let a few words escape his numb lips.

"I've just received a word earlier," Marq replied as he pressed his lips, forming a thin red line. "An alliance from the Southern Isles told me that they never reached the kingdom."

"What do you mean 'they never reached the kingdom'?" the young monarch asked as her rage, once more, started to pile up, reflected by the sudden shifting of the room's condition. "You told me that you sent five of your best men to put that kingdom under 24/7 surveillance, yet here you are, reporting me that they haven't set a foot on its shorelines? That land didn't even had an idea on what is going on in this place, unless..."

"No! No Your Majesty! I assure you that no one except the two of us has the clear vision of what will happen before long."

"Then explain this nonsense!"

A fresh stream of sweat oozed from behind his back, instantly setting his shirt, again, into wetness. The Solbergian admiral inched himself toward the slightly closed door facing his back. His mind flashed a million pictures, seeing himself toasted into gray ashes, gently being lift up by the breeze toward the infinite horizon. He knew well of not making unreasonable excuses for it may intensify the queen's outburst and he is not in good shape to witness such upheaval. If ever things began to get out of hand, the door will be his only passage in case he bolts out.

"Storms!" he exclaimed.

"What?"

"While sailing northwest from the docks of Southern Isles, a rogue storm occurred a few miles before they set anchor on that kingdom's harbor. It so happen that it came to them by surprise, meeting them unimpervious at sea."

"Are you certain about your accounts admiral?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. The room's temperature began to cool down a bit. It was a good sign.

"No... I mean Yes! Yes I'm sure. It was my good friend from the Southern Isles who told me about the incident. And believe me Your Majesty, he still acquires outside infos even though he's in jail!"

"Then how sure are you that your little 'jailbird' is worthy enough to be accredited of our trust?"

Marq smirked, concealing a sinister laughter from inside.

"He wants to take his sweet revenge on that land's queen and sibling," Marq explained. "He also believes that negotiating with us might help him earn a crown on his head and a seat on the throne."

"What's his name?" the Queen once again asked, showing a slight pang of interest in the man's background.

"Oh. I'm sorry my Queen," Marq apologized mockingly. "He demands to keep his identity hidden until he sees the right opportunity to become recognized. But, I do know one thing about him as mentioned by a few rumors," he finished.

"And what is that?"

Admiral Marqus chuckled, as if another plan went maneuvering his own train of thought. He exhaled in relief as he held his response toward the Queen's interrogation.

"He is now disgraced..."

* * *

A few more errands were to be prepared by the Queen of Solberg before daylight breaks the nocturnal silence. Though she preferred not to get over-stressed by the worst conditions she ought to handle, it's barely possible to drift into slumber without even upsetting the possibilities that your subjects failed to carry out the prerequisites before putting the main plot at work. Mentioning it into simpler senses, she's stuck at a heap of duties.

She had awoken herself up few more hours before dawn. Her red eyes were set frozen on a neat piece of parchment lying on the oak desk. It was a note, dedicated to one of their remaining alliances considering for some minor provisions for the reconstruction of the marketplace. Affixing the royal seal and the signature of her trained penmanship marked the end of her first morning responsibility. At first thought, she was free, not until her mind evoked the one-on-one conference she held with the newly appointed admiral, Marqus Donwell, notifying him of her plans for the scorched lands within the kingdom's bounds. Of course, how could she forget inspecting the place. After all, her mind had been already set for the needed repairs.

She rose from her seat, letting the soles of her orange high-heeled slipper lead her to the opened oriel by the balcony. From where she stood, the image of the soft ginger glow was viewed slowly shedding the black heavens and hiding the blinking crystals of the night. It was still dark though, yet, it pictured the absolute beauty that Solberg has to offer; it was enough to permit minimal easiness to her inundated mind.

The room shone bright as she held her palms wide open with such considerable distance from her face. She allowed a flickering flame to aloft, halting in midair just above her locks. A single spin of her head caught the sight of an unfinished board game resting on a small counter in the corner of the chamber. But what actually got her fullest attention was a single piece that clearly reflected her orange flame in pure white light. As she lessen the gap between her and the game, it became vivid that the piece that her mental perspective was referring to was a transparent glass queen from the opposing side.

It took her time to completely register that it was the chess game she had been engaged with a passing chamberlain earlier yesterday. Her mind was focused on the resting board, trying to delve everything in retrospect. Much for her dismay, thick hazy clouds of dutiful notions succeeded in concealing her shallow thoughts; one of which includes the game.

For as long as she could recall, she was technically on the winning side. Having two surviving bishops, a rook and queen was so far the advantage of the red tinted glass pieces over the transparent ones. But, as some of her blurred memory clarifies, the sense of putting on a victory was far from possible as the opponent deliberately takes most of her significant elements as captives and simultaneously regaining its most powerful piece: the queen.

The young monarch stared blankly at the unfinished board game, assuming of any possible blunders to take back the momentum or just play a possible draw. With the red queen caged between a pair of nights, threatened by a diagonal column consisting of pawns, a bishop and the king, her chances are slim, thus, accepting defeat to the male chamberlain. She had to admit, he won not because of a few good remaining chess pieces but rather because of his dedication to win at all costs, even if that means conquering against a losing battle. Indeed, he was good.

She wore a grin, not because of unexpected outcome but rather of sudden realization on how a single powerful element could manipulate the outputs of certain circumstances. She laughed at this thought-from a chuckle to a loud burst of sinister guffaw that resonated throughout the room like a roaring thunder. The crystal clear chess piece on her palms revealed a fracture on its side, slowly spreading across its ever delicate glass surface. In a matter of seconds, it exploded-shattering itself in a million red hot fragments-and ceased to exist. Her hands, as well as her hair and eyes, were ignited in bluish-white tinted flame, setting the room into near hundred degrees scorching limit, surpassing the cold early morning breeze howling from the Norwegian fjord.

Her laughter continuous.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

To avoid confusion between the two "queens" mentioned near the end part of the chapter, the one written with a capital letter signifies the queen as the reigning monarch/ruler of Solberg.

More chapters coming up. Stay updated.

Thank You and have a prosperous day ahead...


	2. Inferno

There was a narrow strip of firm wetland lying amongst the shallow banks of the stream, nearly stretching its full length towards the center. A canopy, consisting of bushes and a wide number of hard shrubs, provided the perfect concealment from the eyes of the outside view. The sound of fresh running water crashing on the subsided surface of a rocky bed, as the current hurled it with gentle force, resonated together with the constant rhythmic chirps of crickets hiding themselves behind the twigs and leaves of the surrounding trees, thus, a pacified sanctuary for a perturb mind and body was manifested.

Gran Pabbie had chosen the area to get him sorted from supernatural stuffs. For the past few days, thoughts of despicable meanings came blubbering within the walls of his mental subconscious, leaving more sleepless nights unattended and more visions to be comprehended. Each resembled an unseen foe, dragging him in chains down a black abyss of despair with no certainty of what awaits below. Deep further the unyielding trench of intimidating darkness, where its boundless voids allowed not a single spark of assuring solace to escape, a peculiar voice of frail hollow tone rang, lingering his ears with words that bore the unusual pang of fear and anxiety. He knew what those meant.

In a deep slow sigh, the old troll opened his eyes, in time to meet the first ray of golden shadows, crawling upon the dark distant skyline. The familiar orange arose from the eastern views, replacing the blanket of gloomy shades that hover upon the lands. The early burst of soothing cool breeze ran across the valley where he stood, lifting the cloud of blurred mist away from rear eyesight. His thoughts dissipated like thin air as his mind settled within an immeasurable cauldron of limitless possibilities. A majestic morning is what was supposed to be.

But, it was otherwise foretold.

Resting on his stony hand, tightly grasped into a tight ball of clenched fist, an eerie glow of red emerged, radiating from a single compacted crystal of magical origin. Like lightning, a flash of sudden realization struck the mind of the oldest member of the Rock Troll tribe. His visions reconciled together with a vivid illusion of an abandoned tomb of forgotten prophesy.

"Something's not right"

* * *

The sickening smell of burning wood was more than enough to send her back to reality, thrashing on the soft mattress. She shot her eyes open to a feeling of wrongness of the space around, but a great wall of flickering bright light leapt in front, blinding her for a split second. She attempted to use her freely exposed arms as she recoiled away but instantly caught a strange stinging pain on her skin. The moment her senses came back, she was more than surprised at the scene that stood before her.

The castle was aflame.

She wanted to scream, but no sound came. A part of her howled in deep frustration as she rolled to the side of her bed, coughing from the oppressive smoke. She darted her gaze back and forth, from left to right in search for the slim possibility of surviving the circumstance that threw her upon a sea of tremors. Relief came at its slightest when her gaze pierced through the cloud of thick haze, catching a glimpse of the wooden door frame, splintering as the fire consumed it like a mindless beast.

Her heart pounded a fresh surge of fear as a part of the ceiling collapsed in a thunderous crash, nearly burying her under a heap of flaming debris. Her cries for help were instantly engulfed by the roars of the raging inferno, billowing great clouds of dark mist that stung her from the inside. Time was dripping fast.

She wanted to run, but her trembling legs wouldn't obey, seemingly stuck in place as the fire continued to unleash its unforgiving wrath. She tried gasping for breath beyond the hazardous fumes covering her from head to foot; it slowed to almost a halt. Her vision dimmed, losing the image of the wooden panel lying only a few feet from where she crouched, coughing as she accepted her fate - she felt weak. She knew something's wrong as her physical attributes wouldn't comply in regards to the occuring situation. Trapped and hopeless within the brink of the valley of the shadow of death, her journey has finally come to a grim end. Or was it.

 _All of a sudden, it felt cold; a sharp pain, like a million spears piercing all over her body. It caught her almost at the peak of vulnerability. She wasn't prepared._

 _Alone in a dark room, swathed under a thick cloak, she huddled herself against a cold-scratched wall, enduring a terrible chest pain as she listened to the fierce blizzard howling outside the ice crystal-stained window. This was a feeling that she'd never struggled before – a feeling more than the reality of being rejected for thirteen long years. A mixed realization of sadness, hurt and anger erupted from her heart as she shed the last of her tears._

"Look at you, cowering underneath the hearth of an unanticipated circumstance" an outlandish accent rose among the crackling noise of raging fire. "You're not the feisty young girl I used to know before."

"Wh…Who are you?" Her voice trailed off as it left her lips with recognizable effort. Time, almost running out, hang suspended upon the frozen hours of mere death. She wasn't actually expecting an odd tone to rise as it brought a fresh stream of adrenaline rushing within, gaining minimum strength to get up on her knees, attempting to sense the peculiar space. The fire was still there, dancing with its flickering tongues in front of her very eyes, but pursued the slightest effect as her mind directed its fullest attention to the mysterious voice that lingered her ears moments ago. "Who are you?" She repeated.

The room stood silenced to death, a prolonged soundless dimension inserted between the girl and the unseen amplifier of the voice. There was no reply, for the next moments she stood waiting for a response of any sort. Yet, she found none.

Her trembling limbs moved without will, an acute desperation and hunger for answers swirled around an imaginable realm sustained between the unreal and reality; she was confused. The mere fact that her presence inside a flaming room was something to be questioned: Who and what started the fire in the first place; above all, for what valuable purpose. Time was too precious to be spilled, she found herself up with a pair of sparkling green eyes darted on the front door. With a final burst of remaining optimism, she leaned her weight up front, and charged.

Taken aback all of a sudden, the door flew open with such immeasurable ease; its hinges were verily loose from the splintering doorframe as it finally collapses atop the pile of charring debris. She continued thrashing, collided against the brutal stone wall opposite her quarter. She fell with a loud _thud_ , defied by the continues roaring of infernal jeopardy from adjacent rooms. She screamed in agony as she felt something broke within, but was cut short by another fume of sickening black fog seeping inside her mouth, choking her in an instant. Her senses came back after some moments, configuring at slow pace the features of what seemed like another realm that surrounded her entire being, it somehow brought slight relief. Despite other consequences that might be held upon further counters, she began sprinting along the dark carpets of the hallway, dragging herself through the fiery labyrinth of hope struggling in somber silence.

Within the lengths of the hall, where she had memorized years ago, she was lost, not only in mere direction but also in thoughts as well. The oppressive smoke and ash confounded a blurd illusion projected through the remaining dark corners. Was it just an illusion? Or perhaps an unclear envisioning of what awaits thereof? She badly wanted answers, but the perception of being trapped inside the cold vortex of a raging storm might have pushed her to think otherwise as she neared upon an edge, a junction of the hallway branched in two paths.

A thick haze of distinct black and gray fogged on both passages alongside another barrier of smoking-hot debris. The floors had large fissures, and the remaining areas were topped with heaps of jumbled furnishings. The temperature boiled nearly above a hundred degrees and is expected to increase in a matter of minutes.

 _Could anything be 'worser' than this?_ There was still the load of optimism present as she uttered the words in between choked coughs and labored breathing in which the response she got was an ear-breaking explosion as the ceiling met the floor with a nerve-wrecking _boom_. A lot more ash was sent flying on all fours as she let a scream escape her shaking lips. In a matter of seconds, she was encased in another cloud of decisioning; another choice that will cause her life if made within her common clumsiness. She needed to act now, to make her discretion as quick, and rather accurate, as possible. But her thinking never reached its conclusion nor came upon the baseline as she felt herself being tugged across all flaming obstacles, through the edge of every burning splinters of charred furniture. In a blink of an eye, it came all of a sudden, out of the blue, an unprepared instance induced in flaming circumstance like lightning. She was confused, at the same time relieved.

They zigzagged their way across the now unfamiliar passages of the castle. Some of the walls had already collapsed, creating either a shorter path or a possible roadblock. But whatever it is, the relief she felt was not more than the infuriating sense of being trapped alone inside a burning furnace, at least she wasn't alone, not this point anymore. She was pale and burning with exhaustion as the mysterious person surefootedly lead her with overt courage. She could hear _his_ breathing despite the continuous roaring of flames.

The whole course only took merely half her expected time before they breached through a door leading to a well-familiar space between columns of stiff stone walls. Its entire features defined only minimal alterations in defiance to the occurring situation though some debris were scattered along the flooring like piles of burning paper. She tried to sense the familiar room, running her gaze along the granite surface and known carpeting. Smoke belched on every corner and edge occupied by torn and burning wallpaper. At the background, a loud noise of crashing wood seized the furious accent of the flaming void. Another similar sound followed, then another. When the duo looked behind, a part of ballroom's floor was gone.

The man continued pacing down the safe spots of the flooring as if searching for something through the thick blanket of haze. On his right, the girl frankly followed suit while studying the entire features of the room. From behind, a wall exploded like crumbling rocks from an unfriendly side of a mountain slope. A quite murmur rose, soft yet convincing, and died as the blast subsided.

"Come on. This way!"

Something's wrong. She could sense the uneasiness that occured mere seconds ago. She was gasping for breath and inside was becoming very upset. _It could have belong to someone_. Her hands began trembling, more violent than the previous ones. Perspiration flowed from her palms. The stinging pain from cuts and burns provide no sense of harm to the young lady as her heart accelerates like the galloping of horses. She was choked by words though she's not speaking. Her chest is becoming full of worry and the feeling of about to explode seemed to rise.

"What are you waiting for? The gates are ain't coming here."

"T...tell me. Is there s...someone else here?" She remained stiff from where she stood, yet inside, tense was piling up as she was choked both by the smoke and her own words. None of which she could determine.

There was a pause.

"Look, I think we should..."

"Answer ME!" she demanded with a heavy heart obviously hauling the burden of anger and worry. Fear was obviously notable. Tears glistened at the corner of her eyes. Her face was red yet her lips remained pale and she was breathing heavily. "Where's my sister? Is she still in here?"

Prolonged silence was forged between her and the man whose facial features remain concealed in dark silhouette. He mumbled out a tone but his answer never came. With the strident crackling of flames on dry wood, the girl let out a sigh of desperation. She glared the man with eyes that beheld the mismatched hue of green flame before turning her back away, sprinted towards the hallways, back to the scorching quarters that seemed to have waited patiently for her return. _I should have known…_

The man was yet fast enough to give the chase and attempted to grab her on the arm. She tried to break his clamped grip but it was no use. He was actually strong for his size.

"Are you crazy?" he obnoxiously yelled. "You're gonna kill yourself back there!"

She made no reply but instead casted all capacity on one spot of her body. Grunting, she exhaled a fume of suffocating gas before releasing a powerful yank against the grip. She pushed the man using her sore arm, adding a gap for the best possible results prior proceeding to her run.

The man fell on his bottom, landed with a thud on a pile of fractured wood furniture. A scream of pain and defeat escaped his lips as he felt a prickling sharp pain puncturing the skin of his thigh. He could feel the numbness from his toes as he observed drips of thick red fluid puddling underneath his legs. The man crawled helplessly along the rough floor surface as he attempted to stand in two, but ended up falling on his knees instead, incapacitated by a 19 year old girl. He tried his luck, perhaps his fate, for the next few several times but always cave in on the same similar results. He scanned his surroundings, expecting the worst thing to happen, and alas, found himself alone in the scorching hot ballroom, perspiring and sitting with an injured limb. For a little instant, the room stood almost silent, despite the soft crackling of light flames that bore more or less concern to him. The situation replied as he heard something that stood out from the rest of the surrounding noise. In mere certainty, the peculiar sound didn't originate from the farthest adjacent rooms or the nearby stone walls, but instead underneath the spot from where he sat, chuckling as fate fully defined its end.

The young lady continued pacing down the corridor, taking utmost caution on every delicate step she made. The floorings were already brittle, ash coated and splintering as the fire continued to consume it with no hesitation; a hungry desire that requires no eminent force to continue unleasing its mindless rage. The majorities of the walls were already down in piles of futile concrete and are charred in deep gray. She was acquiring more burns, cuts and bruises as every passing second drops. Each of which is tortured by excessive sweat flowing from the tips of her eyebrow yet she found the courage to shrug the pain and direct her center of attention in locating her sister.

Her sore legs dragged her tiring body down a simple staircase to a grand door containing another extensive room. But this was way peculiar than the ballroom as it was mysteriously containing small flames than the rest of the quarters. One observable feature, aside from being spacious enough to hold a small party, is that a throne was sitting at the far end of the room opposite to the main entrance, just in ample distance to cross her line of sight. She assumed it to be the throne area since the royal seat was placed in a slightly elevated platform, in front of a wall dressed in red fabric. Red curtains hang loosely between the pillars that make the room's perimeter. The spot behind the curtains contain a variety of paintings, a set of chairs and somehow enough space to lodge a small playing band. A noticeable diamond emblem was embedded on the center of the firmly striped flooring and was brightly illuminated by a snowflake-like design coming from a fixed glass panel on the ceiling, presumably the moonlight. Crystals hang frozen in mid air, glittering in complete synchronization with the flames dancing in the prominent background. As mysterious as the view that beheld in front of her, there was a perceptible sense of cool winter-like breeze swirling inside. It met her with quite vacillation before it faded. On the center of the room, a lone feminine figure crouched as if in deep sorrow. Beyond her, presumably four yards away, an unidentifiable silhouette encased in deep crimson flames stood, blubbering words at the unresponsive figure.

She inched her way toward the center of the room, taking short footsteps along the ash tarnished flooring. Every stride she made felt heavy, drenched in deep eternity as if walking over a mountain slope with legs buried under three feet of cold powder. She was breathing with obscured difficulty and smoke was violently stinging her throat and lungs. Her legs trembled out of exhaustion and evident frustration, her arms found the sharp pain from several bruises, cuts and burns that surfaced upon her delicate skin, but still provided no sense of discontinuity to the young princess of Arendelle.

"E...Elsa?" She mumbled out at minimal amplification as she gasp for breath within the cloak of scarce vision and air.

The figure, under the embrace of glowing crimson flames turned its head to the direction of the princess. It stared at her with eyes that reflected the color of the raging inferno for the next few seconds.

With every passing second that the figure stared, Anna's heart continued trudging the unwinding path to the waiting arms of what she knew was comfort. The mere fact that her sister darted her eyes toward the direction she was positioned was more than the relief she could get from any other company she could have, most specially during the time being. She wanted to run, to fall in the warm embrace of her beloved sister, to shed every drop of tear knowing that Elsa would provide the comfort she desperately needed. But the urgent pang of something wrong arose in mid silence as she inched her gap closer to the center of the room, toward the unmoving duo.

"Elsa?" She called again to the now suspicious figure that stood staring blankly at her presence. Neither a response of any sort nor the tiniest muscle movement became evident to the dark shadow glaring from the front porch of fire.

"Elsa?" Again she called.

Not expecting for another respond from the voice of silence, the dark figure roared in horrific laughter, smirched with the foreboding language of fraudulent prospect. The shadow's obvious locks, stranded neatly in a single braid, swayed as she persisted the sinister laugh. The flames swirled around like hideous blizzard from the Great Freeze, unifying its elemental power with the mistress of fire with the absence of hesitation. They were all untouched at the vortex.

The horrifying chaos nearly deprived Anna's fullest attention to the forgotten figure that remain crouched depressively on the rugged surface. As similar to the shadowed one, it also possessed a professionally done braid of overt platinum-blonde hair. Her blue glittering gown was almost consumed by the merciless tongues of fire. A bad gash was seen ripping a part of the lower bodice through the bounds of her delicate snow white skin. Thick red fluid puddled across the black carpet of ashes, flowing freely like a river. Anna could have guessed that she had been injured long before she entered the room feeling the mixed emotion of curiosity and relief.

The crouched figure lured its head until it faced the direction where Anna was standing. Blue was reflected in its eyes with tears glistening on both corners, and the obvious expression of a triumphant defeat was worn on the face. From where she sat firmly, crystals of white and blue radiated forming a thin pattern of which Anna had pictured as a snowflake. By the time it became all crystal-clear to the young princess, it was also the time that she will begin to lose everything.

The crouched feminine figure continued to give Anna a reassuring glance before it faded to a look sadness and pity as she suffered in a breathless silence.

"I'm sorry Anna," were the last words heard before the room pummeled in a gleam of blinding light in which later fell into a world pure emptiness.

Nothing is seen.

Nothing is heard.

Nothing but the strident void of intimidating white.


End file.
